


Catharsis

by NightmareDaisy



Category: Tyranny (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Recreational Misuse of Ink, Scars, accidental emotions, mild body horror, tho they're barely there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 15:48:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10925019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightmareDaisy/pseuds/NightmareDaisy
Summary: An unfortunate Sage is captured by the Scarlet Chorus. As fate would have it, he catches someone's Eye.





	Catharsis

**Author's Note:**

> Don't blame me, I was brutally dragged into this ship. But we're aboard, let's row.  
> (Liberties have been taken on the character's ages, oops)

Whispers thrummed in the air with the heaviness of heartbeat.

Silence was never truly itself in the war camps of the Scarlet Chorus, not when every sleepless breath trembled in dread of both past and future, and lacking words were outnumbered by the broken sobs, the screech of sharpening blades and growls that tasted of blood. That and the sporadic screams and gurgles of the occasional victim- of nightmares or something else, it was anyone’s business.

Not that Fifth Eye would have known any better. Murmurs plagued his brain day and night, the hum of the breeze amplified tenfold, carrying all the hushed tones of the living and their secrets in a constant, blinding buzz. The voices in his head, and the Ones he served, echoing until his body was blurred and there was nothing but feeling and he could  _ See _ -

Blunt nails dragged over the scarred skin of his chest. 

Oh, but He wasn’t here now. He’d been away for a few days back in the North to meet with His spies. Fifth Eye could feel the quiver in the back of his brain but it was muted, distracted. Left him some room for his own pesky thoughts.

Teeth worried at the bottom lip, following the wake of his tongue over old welts. 

Like that troublesome heat in his loins. 

The young man frowned at the canvas ceiling of the tent. He was still so unfortunately human, and it had been a while since he had indulged himself last, but he usually preferred to ignore it and carry on with more useful business. It was always such a bother to find someone, ah-  _ fit _ for the task. 

An absent-minded palm traveled down toward his lower abdomen, feeling the burn of the coarse fabric against his fingers. He’d gotten used to the futility of the motion by then. Part of him was almost surprised he could still even feel this way, as useless an instinct as it was for someone in his predicament, but animals are still animals, even muzzled and crippled.

He stretched lightly, the muscles of his legs tightening as he pushed his back against the rough, hard bedding.

Fuck it.

Fifth Eye rose, grabbing the burnished armor and fastening it quickly, not even bothering with the cape as he strode out of the tent, mask and gloves once again secured in their rightful place. The night seemed relatively quiet, only the hastily hushed gasps of a group of startled conscripts met his ears as he stalked through the camp, scanning his memory and the grounds alike for one of the new cubs. The new batches were ripe with potential, sweet little expendables that could still make themselves useful-

He halted abruptly in his tracks. 

A low, gentle note washed over him, a heedless symphony he only half recognized. His eyes twitched as he stepped closer to the poles at the center of the clearing, the freshly caught prisoners hanging from the wood like hares ready to be skinned. A Vendrien Guard patrol, ambushed somewhere along the border, the promise of information tied to their tongue. The note repeated, and the Crimson Spear found himself observing the older man of the group.

His head hung low, a mop of well trimmed white hair partially hiding his features and swinging gently as it lolled, following the wordless tune he seemed to be singing to himself. His bandaged hands were stained black. 

Another deep note vibrated through the air and into Fifth Eye’s mask, gloved hands tightening at his sides as a shiver ran down his spine. His neck tingled. He licked his lips, tasting the bronze of the mask.

“Hey !”

The Scarlet Fury marched over to them, switch in hand. She raised her arm, ready to strike.

“What did I tell you about being silen- ah !”

The slap of Fifth Eye’s hand catching her wrist was muffled by the leather of the gloves. She yelped, caught by surprise, but stilled herself before her instinct to lash out kicked in. It wasn’t her time to die yet.

“Was he with the patrol ?”

The woman’s focus passed from her superior to the hanged man and then back, staring in silence for a moment before nodding, her fingers twitching in pain as he kept her arm still in an iron grip. Fifth Eye seemed lost into the soft movement of the old prisoner’s head.

“Cut him down.”

“Uh- but boss-”

“And bring him to my tent.”

In the dim light of the half lit torches, the Crimson Spear’s unreadable bronze mask was more akin to the otherworldly horror of a Bane than a human face. The Scarlet Fury stomped her heel against the ground in compliance, letting out a high whistle as soon as her wrist was freed. Fifth Eye casually watched her cut the ropes binding the man’s arms, waiting for two horde men to run help her take the body down. He was still singing.

 

\---

Dust rose at every step, the focused, martial stride made erratic by the urgency burning under his skin. The earthenware pail clinked against his armor as he entered the tent, pulling the flap closed as soon as he saw his… guest.    
The old man laid on the tall bench they used for interrogation. He was mumbling something under his breath. Fifth Eye placed the pail on the ground, careful not to spill the precious water. The prisoner’s clothes and gear clearly indicated his status as a Sage- old, faded memories twinkled into his head, rival schools, the Citadel...

The man looked up, the frown on his face more confused than startled as he tried to focus through the haze. He struggled to smile.

“Ah- well, now… far from me to instruct you on your job, but I- can assure there is no need…”

His voice was deep, soothing, timbre cracking only slightly from dehydration. The Crimson Spear stared at him in perfect silence, watching him gulp in increasing unease as he fruitlessly tried to decipher the void of expression. Bloodied gloves pulled at the catches of the bronze chest piece, removing it as slowly as the barely contained trembling of his fingers allowed. 

“I- I can tell you what I know, though I, uh, am afraid-”

“Are you ?”

The old man gaped for a second, mouth failing to form words as the anonymous creature in red loomed over him, the usual shrill pitch brought down to a hiss, raspy and grating like the scrape of rusted metal. 

“Are you afraid ?”

The tan weathered face went pale, lips tight in pretend composure. He had such high, perfect cheekbones… Fifth Eye could see the flecks of dust and dried blood on his skin, smudges of ink staining his beard. He pressed his tongue to the mouth of his mask, tasting bronze in the private mockery of a kiss.

“What is it, mh ? No more begging and squealing ?”

The gloves hit the floor with a soft sound, naked fingers brushing against the worn blue fabric and snaking down to unclasp the belts and girdles around the Sage’s waist. They paused on his side a moment longer.

“Already exhausted your words ? You seemed so keen to sing to me a moment ago, Sage- ?”

The man blinked rapidly, brown eyes twitching in the effort to focus.

“...Lantry.”

The Fifth Eye’s form shuddered faintly, drinking in the sweet gravelly accent. Something akin to a purr made his chest rumble. One hand played with the ties of the vest, while the other traveled down to settle on a slender thigh.

“Do you want to sing for me ?”

Words cracked in the soldier’s failed attempt to suppress his excitement. The inside of his visor was becoming slick with the condensation of his own labored breath as he traced the lines of wiry muscles, feeling the pulse quicken under his fingers. He leaned in, elbow on the bench at Lantry’s side while his right arm extended backward, busy massaging circles into the old man’s leg.    
Lantry seemed caught in an internal struggle, eyelashes fluttering as the ministrations started to affect him through the dulling effect of the ink. He had used quite a few vials just to be able to avoid this, but now he wasn’t so sure a total lack of awareness was the best solution. His vision swam as he stared up at the ceiling, counting the stains of use to distract himself from the hands roaming over his chest and sides, squeezing every delicate point. He clenched his jaw, suppressing a groan. He’d always been an adventurous man, he had no shame, but he also had his age…

The press of something cold on his skin, wet heat dragging against his nipple and suddenly everything was painfully, strikingly vivid. He felt a shock running up his spine, a sour taste filling his tongue as he looked down at the bright green blotch of ink on his hip. The sharp, high-pitched giggle of his captor made him wince.

“Come, come now- don’t keep me waiting…”

Lantry’s breath hitched at a second lick along his ribs. The Crimson Spear’s mask was tilted up, dark cloth underneath parted to show a scarred mouth, lips burned red leaving a trail of nips and hickeys toward his belly.

“How-”   
“Oh, you did not really think you were the only clever boy around here, did you ? We don’t go round reaping knowledge just for show...”

The hair on his arms stood up, if as a result of the ink that made his heart pound and his skin tingle or as a reaction to the unnerving quality of the unnaturally youthful voice of the other man, Lantry couldn’t be sure. The part of him that wasn’t blinded by feeling wanted to sink back and away, despite how much his hands suddenly itched to grasp at the bright red fabric of the hood pooling on Fifth Eye’s shoulders, hips involuntarily rising to meet teeth and tongue.

Fifth Eye giggled again, breathy and eager. He leaned forward against the Sage’s body, foot propped on the bench’s legs as if to climb on as well. His clothes were starting to feel too hot and too tight, the mask over his eyes slipping on the burlap underneath as he busied himself on the other’s neck, feeling the warmth radiating over his cheeks. He palmed Lantry’s lap and had to bite back a squeal as the older man bucked his hips, half mast evident under the confines of the breeches.

The world was spinning before Lantry could fully register it. He grabbed Fifth Eye’s shoulders by instinct as the younger man hauled him off the bench, pulling him by the belt and lifting him into his arms. His face turned and they shared breath for a moment, Lantry’s legs winding around the Crimson Spear’s waist while one hand tangled in the hood of the helmet. If he would claim the ink made him open his lips at the first rough kiss, no one could say any different.

The hit of the ground against his back forced a strangled gasp out of him, air leaving his lungs as Fifth Eye pushed him on the cot. Limbs twisted, Fifth Eye’s arms sliding between their bodies to pick at the strings of the Sage’s belt, moaning and whining against his mouth. It was sloppy, desperate, starved for touch, and Lantry could’ve found it endearing if it wasn’t for the grinding of the firm body between his legs making him see stars. 

With a last tug, the belt came undone and Fifth Eye pulled away. Lantry couldn’t help the groan that escaped him when the stale cold air hit his skin, loincloth jerked sharply away with the breeches. He looked up at his unusual lover and suddenly realized his position- vulnerable, naked, at the mercy of a man that, now that he looked at him, could be easily twice his size and certainly five times as crazy. 

His dick twitched.

The noise that came from Fifth Eye sounded suspiciously like a mewl. He grabbed the back of Lantry’s knees and dragged them up, dipping down to lick a stripe up the  _ oh so pretty _ erection before him. A light nudge upward and it slipped down his throat, ruined gag reflex accomplice to the lips reaching for the base, tasting the salty, bitter flavor against his tongue. He could feel his own body throb in anticipation, in rhythm with the trembling of the flesh in his mouth, slick sweet relief so close…

He pulled back with a wet pop, fingers wrapping around the base and eliciting a displeased moan from Lantry, whose faint struggle was curbed immediately by a slap on the gut.

“No, no no no- I am not… I’m not wasting this…”

Lantry winced as his legs were slammed back on the ground, the Crimson Spear standing up over him as he removed his clothes. 

The bronze mask was back on, but the Sage could hear the hardly muffled panting coming from under it. He watched, entranced, as the younger male undressed, the hastily revealed skin glistening with scars that ran around his torso and up his legs from the bandages on his feet and ankles, stained from blood Lantry wasn’t sure was his or not.

The double breasted shirt was just barely opened, but Lantry could see enough from his vantage point to size up the other man’s body. He’d always preferred the ladies, to be honest, but there was something quite alluring in the wide chest and well built abdomen, two white scars striking a stark contrast with the tan tiersman skin as they traveled down to-

Lantry felt his heart drop.

Fifth Eye’s hips were covered in a web of pale pink scars, a dark faded brand on the left side and two lighter furrows extending from his belly to where his genitals would have been, only there was nothing but a bare expanse of marred skin, layers of discolored blisters with a small depression in the middle that didn’t even look human, forget womanly. 

The soldier caught his expression. Lantry couldn’t see his face, but the trembling in his shoulders as his gaze dropped to the Sage’s lap spoke volumes.

A hand was against his throat before he could react.

_ “Don’t… you… dare !” _

The words pierced his still too sensitive ears, cracking and shrill with distress. The other hand wrapped around the softening cock, pumping it a couple of times before he let Lantry’s throat go with a frustrated growl and drew back. The visor shifted up, void eye holes staring straight at the older man.

Lantry grimaced, nails scratching the rough bedding. The suction was hard enough to hurt, and the teeth grazing his skin sent spikes of fear through him instead of pleasure. On the other hand though, he felt… sorry.

Suddenly, too many things made sense, even in his shaken, confused and drug-addled mind.

Voices screeched in Fifth Eye’s head, overlapping. Not his Master’s, no, no, he had his own little joys. The fire in his belly clashed against the rage, venom coursing through his veins. He’ll take what he was here to take, he had waited, he’d been patient, he _ deserved it-  _

The touch on his cheek startled him. He didn’t really need to raise his head to look up. Lantry withdrew his hand, hesitating, but when the other didn’t show signs of imminent retaliation he reached out again, brushing the dark cover of the mask away from Fifth Eye’s cheek. He blinked slowly, stroking the scarred cheekbone with a thumb.    
Fifth Eye took the cue. He leaned into the touch, lips pressing back delicately as he worked with his tongue, taking on a slower rhythm. Up, down, up again and off, leaving a kiss on the tip. Fingers stroking his jaw and he followed them down, relishing in the soft moan he obtained in return. 

“That’s it… very good…”

Something inside of him sparked. He sighed around the shaft, hands going to grip Lantry’s thighs as he repositioned himself and increased the pace. Lantry’s eyes widened, but the corners of his lips curled up.

“There you go, perfect… ah- so good…”

His other hand extended to meet Fifth Eye’s own, squeezing lightly over the knuckles. The Crimson Spear shuddered, completely focused as he brought his head down again, lavishing the cock between his lips with increasing fervor. Every word of praise, every murmur of pleasure, Fifth Eye ate them up like a starving man with a wistful moan.

Lantry’s head fell back against the cot, breathing labored as he felt the knot in his belly tighten.

“Stop, stop- wait-”

Fifth Eye stilled. For what little Lantry could see, his expression was as blank as his mask’s. He offered a smile.

“Wasn’t there something you wanted to do ?”

It was like someone just reminded Fifth Eye of who he was. Marred lips split into a wicked grin.

He pushed himself up, hovering above Lantry’s waist, tongue darting out against his scars as if tasting the air before giving his own fingers a long lick. The old Sage steadied his stomach before glancing down at the mangle of flesh where Fifth Eye’s hand had disappeared, but the shaky moan that followed refocused his attention immediately.    
The burn of the stretch was but an appetizer for the pain to come, but the young man relished in it. Long fingers reached inside, searching for that spot that could still bring him higher than any drug. For once, he blessed Kyros for his Master’s maniacal nagging about His Eyes’ exceedingly strict hygiene habits. He felt Lantry’s hands brush against his hips. 

He brought a palm to his mouth and reached behind, sinking with a swift movement and a cracked grin.

Black stained nails dug into his sides, but the ache was lost in the sensation of all his nerves coming alight like a spark of lightning. It hurt almost as much.   
Lantry gaped, shivers running through his body as he watched a line of drool run from the side of Fifth Eye’s mouth, sharp, ecstatic cackling shaking his chest and filling the tent. It didn't seem like the younger man needed or wanted any time to adjust, his hips already rising and pushing back in a heavy rhythm. Not that Lantry felt like complaining. His own skin was on fire, the ink heightening his senses until his conscience was eclipsed by the raw need to drive himself into the tight burning heat of the other’s body, to map every scar and welt with his nails until the soldier screamed his name. He met the thrusts halfway, reveling in the unrestrained whines of the other.

Fifth Eye’s fingers tangled into his hair, tugging his head up. He grinded against his lap in a frenzied rhythm, shuddering every time he managed to hit his prostate. Lantry followed his movements, arms tightening against the Spear’s waist.

Hysterical giggles gave way to breathless moans, suffocated in the crook of the Sage’s neck. The mask pressed against his temple, the spikes on the top close enough to be dangerous, but Lantry couldn’t really think to care, not when the cries in his ear had devolved into whispers, curses uttered like strangled pleas against his cheek. He squeezed Fifth Eye’s sides, not daring to turn as he spoke.

_ “Good boy…” _

Nails raked over his scalp, the movements of the body over him becoming more frantic as he continued. Praise and encouragement quickly broken into sighs when the other man wrenched his breath from him, hands crawling inside his vest and blunt teeth digging into his shoulder.

Fifth Eye licked away the blood, tongue numbing on the old stains of black. He wanted to scratch, strangle and kiss, melt into Lantry’s touch and tear that sweetness out of his voice to keep. 

His legs trembled, breath stuttering. A light change of angle was all it took.

Lantry bowed his head into the dip of the younger man’s throat as he arched, curses slipping through bitten lips. He kept his hands on his back even after their hips had stilled, bodies wrung into an embrace that didn’t feel as wrong as it should have.

The Crimson Spear helm slipped off.

Lantry felt the press of sweaty skin and the light flutter of eyelashes against his ear. He could see more scars out of the corner of his vision, but as Fifth Eye nuzzled into his neck he decided he didn’t need to know. 

Only when his breath had evened out did Fifth Eye move. Too pale irises studied the Sage’s face as he slept, index finger twisting absent-mindedly in the thin tawny braid next to his ear. The weird spark from earlier had faded into a heat into his stomach, but different from lust. It was closer to the adoration for Master, but it couldn’t be it. This man was far different from Master.

Fifth Eye felt a pang in his chest.

He brought a hand to his head. Stupid, stupid, this is what happens when you’re alone too long.

He was an Eye. He had no feelings.

He traced the Sigil of Illusions in the air and watched Lantry’s expression shift, the light smile on his lips dulling to leave only a neutral expression.

\---

_ “Are you telling me… no ?” _

Fifth Eye struggled against the Fatebinder’s grasp, but without much conviction. His gaze darted toward Lantry. Bound, tired, aching and swoozy from the ink, the dust streaked face a mask of unease. The trial by combat was the way of the Chorus. Weed out the weak and tired and old.

He conceded.

Lantry spent the following hours in one of the tents, busy decrypting the enemy message. When he reappeared with the information on Tripnettle, the Fatebinder was quick to organize the next steps. Fifth Eye had nothing more to say, even as they welcomed the old Sage into their service, the relieved smile in Lantry’s expression making something in his stomach twist. 

It wasn’t his problem.

He watched them leave, escorted by Death Knell. His lips felt dry, but his tongue didn’t move. He breathed out the knot in his chest.

Master would be back soon, and he had so much to prepare. He nodded to himself.

Master would be back soon, and he wouldn’t have to think anymore.


End file.
